


the terrors of the earth

by inanhourofdreaming



Series: Here shall I [4]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Magical Realism, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-15
Updated: 2012-08-15
Packaged: 2017-11-12 04:26:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,526
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/486672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/inanhourofdreaming/pseuds/inanhourofdreaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek and Stiles have a confrontation and solidify their agreement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the terrors of the earth

Derek shouldn’t be here. He’s too old to be lurking around outside of high schools like something out of a kids program on stranger danger. He just needs to know what he’s dealing with---and so far, Stiles is kind of a big mystery. If he’s going to have an ally in this, he needs to know what to expect.

He leans back, shifting his weight onto the Camaro, and stuffs his fists into his jacket. Sometimes he loses a bit of his body awareness when he’s concentrating on listening over long distances, especially through the kind of noise a high school normally generates, and having something to press against helps. He thinks about Stiles, the sound of his heartbeat, the cadence of his voice, and focuses. It takes several minutes of concentrating before he finally zeroes in on the right conversation.

“…like I said!” Stiles says, clearly finishing a thought.

“So basically, we’re hunting werewolves, which I’ve never actually seen any proof of, with the creepy dude from the forest who I’m pretty sure wanted to kill us and then appeared in your room like a crazy stalker,” Scott says.

“Yes! Yes, exactly. That is exactly what we are doing,” Stiles says. He sounds proud of Scott, like the fact that he’s grasped the situation in any capacity surprises him. Considering Stiles said Scott didn’t know about what he could do, Derek is pretty surprised Scott’s even still listening to Stiles at all.

Scott sighs. 

“This isn’t going to end with me dying, is it? Because I don’t know how I feel about that,” he says.

“Most likely not, no. I’m going to go with a definite no. I mean, unless you have like, a freak asthma attack or something, in which case I feel it cannot reflect poorly on our life choices because baby, you were born that way.”

“Is this going to be a thing now, you speaking through song lyrics?” Scott says.

“Yes. No. I don’t know, is it working for me? I think I could pull it off."

Derek hears a rustling, probably Scott shoving Stiles. He allows himself a small smile; no one is watching him anyway.

“Stiles! Look, dude, there she is, she’s walking this way,” Scott says suddenly.

“What, who? Where.” Stiles says, and Derek hears more shuffling around.

“Allison! The one who I lent that pen to in Econ? And then embarrassed myself in front of at the lacrosse tryouts. The new girl,” Scott answers, frantic. “What do I do?”

“Oh, yeah. Allison Argent, right? Just talk to her, dude. I mean, you’re asking me? Lydia won’t even look at me twice…” Stiles says, but Derek has stopped listening.

 _Argent._ The Argents are back. The pit of his stomach falls in and he’s made aware of his body again because he’s nearly hyperventilating. He inhales deeply through his nose and then out through his mouth, regaining control. _Relax._ Allison, he’d said, not Kate. A cousin, maybe, or a niece. Kate hadn’t had any younger sisters.

This meant he’d have to be even more careful seeking this alpha out.  He’s got enemies at both ends, now. Damnit! It’s not that he’d expected it to be easy, nothing’s been easy since Kate, but does it always have to be such a shit storm?

He takes another deep breath and runs his fingers roughly through his hair. Ok, so what does he do now? The only ally he has is Stiles, whom he barely knows and who apparently knows an Argent, however new the acquaintance. He can’t afford to let an unknown element like Stiles get warped by hunters. It’s possible they might even go after Stiles for being whatever he is. Plus, and he’s loath to admit this, Stiles was right about his being magnetic to animals. Derek can’t help but _want_ to be near him, which is both irritating and fascinating in equal measure.

So the question is: should Derek tell Stiles the truth about what he is? He’s starting to think there’s no other choice. Stiles seemed pretty open to the idea of werewolves in general; he’d even meant to try and fix the one that killed Laura. Derek’s pretty sure if he’d flat out said he wanted the alpha dead, Stiles wouldn’t have agreed to help him. It’s something, anyway. And whatever Stiles is, he’s not entirely human. If Derek has to give in and tell someone, better it be someone who has his own secrets. There’s leverage there.

Mind made up, Derek swings open the door of the Camaro and slides into the drivers seat. He’s got a few hours to kill before he goes to see Stiles.

 

Stiles is typing rapidly on his laptop when Derek enters silently through the window. He’s rolling his eyes at the computer screen, huffing and mumbling to himself. Derek figures he must be messaging Scott, the only person Stiles has seemed to talk to since Derek’s been aware of him, and the one that seems to elicit this kind of fond exasperation from him. He wonders if he should have made some noise climbing in. Too late now.

“We need to talk,” he says. May as well just get it over with.

Stiles jumps a foot in the air, nearly toppling over in his chair. He grabs at his chest and wheezes.

“Jesus! Do I need to put a _bell_ on you or something? Where did you even come from?” he huffs.

“Window,” Derek says. And then again, “We need to talk.”

“What? Oh, talk, right. Yeah, I’ve been looking up stuff about werewolves, and Scott’s pretty much useless at research but he works for a vet so he’s got access to a lot of stuff about regular wolves, which I guess must have _some_ similarities…” Stiles begins once he catches his breath.

“Stiles,” Derek interrupts before he can get too far, “I mean, _I_ have to talk. To you. There are things you need to know if you’re going to be involved in this.”

Stiles quirks his head to the side, immediately focusing.

“Does this have to do with how you apparently think nothing of jumping out my two story window? Because I gotta tell you, that’s not normal behavior.”

“No. Yes. Just shut up and let me talk,” Derek says.

Stiles watches him, unexpectedly silent for once. Now that Stiles is actually listening, Derek really isn’t sure how to start. Big things first. Get it over with.

“The wolf you saw, the one that…killed my sister,” he stumbles out, “It wasn’t the only one.”

And then he changes. Lets his eyes glow blue, feels the tearing of his fingers as his nails become talons and the cricks in his neck as his face morphs.

“Oh my _god,”_ Stiles says, eyes huge. He isn’t moving away though, isn’t recoiling from Derek’s new form. If anything, he seems to be holding himself back. Stiles’ scent is much stronger like this, as is the weird draw towards him Derek’s still struggling with. “You’re…”

“Yes,” Derek says, but it comes out distorted as always, mangled by his changed jaw.

Stiles has begun to get that glazed look in his eyes again, the one he got in the forest right before he healed Derek’s hands; Derek can only handle so much sharing tonight.

“Stiles,” he says sharply.

Stiles blinks rapidly, snapping out of his daze.

“Sorry, I just…sorry,” he says. He appears to be thinking rapidly through something.

“Ok, so…you’re still _you_ right now though, right? It’s not like the movies, where you totally lose control…”Stiles trails off, waiting for Derek to fill in the rest.

He changes back to his human form. Being near Stiles as the wolf is disconcerting at best.

“I’m still myself. I was born like this, so in a way, I’m always the wolf; it isn’t really something separate. Bitten wolves are different.”

“How?” Stiles asks, leaning forward.

“They’re not used to the instincts. Their first full moon, they usually go mad. We need an anchor, something to keep us human. For a bitten wolf with an alpha, the alpha calls the shots. For ones without? It can get ugly,” Derek says.

“So you think this wolf, the one who killed your sister, was a bitten wolf?” Stiles asks.

Derek looks around the room for a moment before perching on the end of Stiles’ bed.

“It’s unlikely. I’ve never heard of a bitten wolf becoming an alpha. It might be possible, but I think it’s more likely this is a born wolf. Laura…Laura was the alpha. This wolf who killed her, I think he knew that killing Laura would make him the new alpha,” Derek says. He’s trying to keep the emotion out of his voice. He doesn’t know if it’s working.

Derek hasn’t talked like this to anyone since Laura. Maybe even since before she left. There’s something about Stiles, though. Something that makes him want to open up. Some feeling like maybe if he speaks enough, the heavy weight of guilt might actually be lifted. He doesn’t think he’s really ready for that yet. He’s not sure he ever will be.

“So you think he did it to become the next alpha? So, what, being the alpha transfers through death? Kill the old alpha and become the new one,” Stiles says, catching on quickly.

“Well, there’s a myth that if a bitten wolf kills the alpha who bit them, they’ll be…cured.” Derek scowls a little. The wolf is a gift and he’s never understood how anyone could not want it. “I’ve never heard of it actually happening though.”

“Ok, so for now, we’ll work off the idea that it’s someone like you. Uh, I mean, a born wolf, obviously, not someone like you, like you…” Stiles says, floundering.

“Right,” Derek says, ignoring his verbal slip.

“So, uh…how do we go about _finding_ this other wolf? I mean, I can do my thing, if he’s in the forest, but I don’t know how far my reach goes. I’ve never really tested it,” Stiles says.

“There aren’t that many hereditary werewolves in the area, so I can start there. I don’t know of any that would do something like this, though, so it was probably an omega before it became alpha,” Derek says, and then, at Stiles questioning look, clarifies, “a wolf without a pack. Someone who was either kicked out or left willingly. We don’t do well without a pack.”

“ _You_ don’t have a pack,” Stiles observes and then blanches.

“Not anymore,” Derek says, and then, “Not yet.”

Stiles narrows his eyes a bit at that but doesn’t question him. It’s not something he’s put much thought into yet---he needs to find Laura’s killer first---but he realizes it’s true all the same. If he intends to keep on living, he’ll have to find a pack. Or make one, if things turn out that way.

“So I can try and do my thing, ask the forest, but it won’t be very helpful if he’s not there and I don’t know who he is as a human. I’m not sure I’d be able to tell. So I’m thinking we’re better off going the regular investigative route here, try and figure out who he is as a human, go from there. Figure out if he went for Laura because she’s the alpha or if it was incidental. What do you think?” Stiles says.

Derek’s about to answer when Stiles’ phone rings.

“One sec, it’s my dad,” Stiles says.

“Hey, dad, catch any criminals today?” he says into the phone.

“No, kid. It’s gonna be a late night, though. A bus driver just got attacked near your school. Looks like an animal, same as that girl we found. You eat dinner already?”

Stiles looks up at Derek, eyebrows raised. Derek knows his face looks grim.

“Yeah, heated up some leftovers,” Stiles responds. “Be careful, yeah?”

“You know I will, kid. Don’t go to sleep too late,” his dad answers.

“You, too, dad. Love you,” Stiles says and hangs up after the response. “Well, that answers that question. It obviously wasn’t just about being the alpha, which means there’s definitely a story here.”

Derek nods once.

“Do you know what your sister was doing back in Beacon Hills? I mean, you guys moved away after you, y’know…moved. Away. So why come back?” Stiles asks.

“She was investigating the fire,” he says stiffly. It never really gets easier to talk about.

Stiles doesn’t seem to know quite how to respond to that and pauses briefly before pushing through.

“So maybe this has something to do with what she found? I remember sneaking through my dad’s files. They said it was an electrical fire but they never ruled out arson, did they,” he says.

“It was arson,” Derek says. Stiles needs to know this, he reminds himself. It’s necessary.

Stiles catches on immediately. The guy is quick.

“You know who did it, don’t you. You know who set that fire,” Stiles says.

“I know who was responsible,” he responds. And then “I should go to the scene by the school. The alpha will be gone but I might be able to track it while the trail’s still fresh.”

“Ok, yeah,” Stiles says, nodding vigorously and jumping up and grabbing a shoe to put on.

“What are you doing,” Derek says flatly.

Stiles gives him an incredulous look.

“Putting on my shoes? You just said we’re going to the scene,” Stiles says.

“No, I said _I_ should go to the scene. There’s no reason for you to go. You wouldn’t be able to smell it anyway,” Derek says.

Stiles nods but Derek should’ve known that wouldn’t be the end of it.

“True, but I can try and use my uh, powers. I might be able to sense something you can’t, and my dad’s there, so I’ve got an excuse to be dropping by.”

Derek has to concede the point. His senses only go so far and this _is_ why he’s here with Stiles---because Stiles might actually be able to help.

“Alright. But we go separately. They’re still looking to ask me questions. I’ll stay out of sight. Do your thing but be careful. We’ll regroup tomorrow,” Derek says.

Stiles nods, then tears a piece of paper out of his notebook and scribbles on it.

“Here,” he hands Derek the paper. “It’s my cell. Maybe call before you ninja in, yeah? I can only take so much shock in a night.”

Derek nods.

“You be careful, too, man. It’ll be seriously suspicious if they catch you at the scene of another crime, especially if they’re still looking for you about Laura,” Stiles says. Derek’s not sure what to do with that, or why Stiles cares, but he finds himself appreciating it all the same.

“I will,” he says and heads for the window. He grips the frame, ready to jump out, and then turns his head briefly to say, “Oh, and Stiles? Don’t trust the Argents.”

He jumps, leaving Stiles questioning him behind.

It’s enough for now, and he’s got work to do.


End file.
